


Upon Waking

by coffeejunkii



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: AU, Crossgen, M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeejunkii/pseuds/coffeejunkii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about the blurring of uncrossable lines, told between tea and rain and the still moments after full moons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon Waking

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously AU; it takes place a few years after Voldemort's defeat. Many thanks to my wonderful betas [](http://rurounihime.livejournal.com/profile)[**rurounihime**](http://rurounihime.livejournal.com/) and [](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/profile)[**lusiology**](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/).

The paint chipped off easily from the old cup, gathering in small flakes on the wooden table and painting the top of Harry's thumbnail blue. He squinted in the half-light of dawn, tracking the path his finger made around the cup.

"You're up early."

Harry startled at Remus' unexpected presence. "Couldn't sleep. Besides, I could say the same thing to you."

Remus took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. "Sirius asked for something to drink. I think he's got a bit too used to me running around doing things for him."

Sirius had been sick with the flu, and even though he was feeling well again, he still liked to badger Remus into getting him this and that, claiming that doing magic exhausted him and might cause a relapse, and we wouldn't want that, would we?

The thought of Sirius pleading with Remus, who would roll his eyes but be indulgent nevertheless, filled Harry with warmth.

"The insomnia's been getting worse again, hasn't it?" Remus asked, concern tinging his voice.

Harry shrugged. "It comes and goes."

"I wish you'd reconsider Dreamless Sleep."

The cold from the tiled floor seeped into Harry's feet. He drew them up one by one, perching on the edge of the chair. "No," he replied firmly.

During the last stages of the war, Harry had relied on the potion to escape the fighting for a few precious hours, but the leaden feeling he always woke up with wasn't something he was keen to experience again. He much preferred to stay awake, using the quietness of the night to try out the brooms he'd been working on.

The chair next to Harry's screeched across the floor when Remus pulled it away from the table to sit down. "I don't like seeing you tired all the time."

Harry gave Remus a weary smile. "'m fine."

The disbelief on Remus' face made a reply unnecessary. He leaned forward, his knees bumping against Harry's thigh. "You always seemed to sleep well when we were with you."

Harry rested his cheek against his knees and looked at Remus, who steadily held his gaze. Memories surfaced of the time when everyone had decided it would be wise for Harry to change locations every few days. Remus and Sirius had come along, staying close to him at all times. Foregoing proper lodgings lest they be discovered, they'd spent many nights outside, huddled together under blankets in a comfortably entangled knot of arms and legs.

"Things are different now."

"Are they?" Remus didn't wait for an answer. "You need to stop wearing yourself so thin. It'll only work for so long and then—well. Bodies can take only so much strain."

Harry wanted to point out that the war had made it abundantly clear to him where his limits lay, and he wasn't close to them now. But Remus' haunted tone made Harry hold back; if there was anyone who knew about bodies and their breaking points, it was Remus.

"I can't ask that of you," Harry said instead.

"You're not asking, I'm offering. And I know Sirius has been worried about you, too, even if he'd never tell you." Remus' hand came to rest on Harry's shoulder.

Harry shifted on his chair. It felt like an intrusion into that space that was just for the two of them, for Remus and Sirius alone. He didn't belong there. They'd been more than welcoming when he'd first brought up the possibility of moving into their house, and he'd never felt out of place there, but he'd always made sure to give them space and time to be alone. It was one of the reasons why Harry had set up his work space in the shed out in the garden, and not in the house.

On the other hand, he missed the closeness they had all shared during their journeys across the country, the constant reminders in words and gestures that he wasn't alone and was cared for. Not that Remus and Sirius didn't let him know now, but there was a different degree of intensity to their reassurances, knowing that it was less likely that one of them wouldn't be there the next day.

He realised that he hadn't given Remus an answer yet, and suddenly felt very grateful for his patience.

"All right," Harry replied slowly. "Can't hurt, can it?"

Remus' fingers briefly tightened around Harry's shoulder before falling away. "Not at all."

They walked upstairs in silence, Harry trailing behind Remus.

"Moony! Finally. Did you Apparate to the closest spring to get me that water? You really shouldn't have—Harry." Sirius' easy smile melted into something much graver. "Did something happen?"

Harry stopped just across the threshold, looking down at the grainy wooden floor.

"Budge over, Harry's staying with us for the rest of the night. Or, well, early morning now, I suppose," Remus replied, his voice light, as if this happened all the time.

Harry glanced at the two men, who seemed to share a significant look before Sirius took the glass out of Remus' hands and drank down half its contents. He set it down on the nightstand, then peeled back the duvet. "In here with you two before I freeze to death and catch pneumonia."

With some hesitation, Harry climbed into bed. He settled on his back before it occurred to him that he might take up too much space. He turned onto his side, his back to Sirius. The mattress dipped when Remus slid in next to him.

"Okay?" he asked softly.

Harry nodded.

"Less talking, more sleeping," Sirius admonished. Unceremoniously, he flung an arm around Harry's waist and settled against him.

Harry tensed for the briefest of moments, then reminded himself that this was _Sirius_, one of the few people he trusted completely. His next breath was deeper, his body following the exhalation, curving in on itself to come into a more comfortable alignment with the one behind him.

Remus moved closer as well. His hand flowed over Harry's side, from his nape down to his waist where it stayed next to Sirius' arm. The warmth emanating from the two bodies next to Harry made his limbs feel heavy in a way that had escaped him for a while now. Remus' lips curved up into a smile, obviously pleased with what he was witnessing. The image remained imprinted on Harry's drooping eyelids, carrying him over into sleep.

~*~*~

They settled into a routine after that. Harry would toss and turn in his own bed for a few hours before giving up and walking across the hall. If the door to Sirius' and Remus' bedroom was cracked open, he knew he was welcome to join them; if it was closed, he spent the rest of the night in his shed or out on a broom.

Most nights, Harry found the door open. He tried to return the favour by spending a few hours working on his brooms every day, usually starting just before Remus returned from tutoring and ending in time for dinner. Having walked in on Remus and Sirius more than a few times, he knew that they still liked to take every chance they got to shag each other rotten, a fact that Harry found endearing most of the time, aside from those rare moments in which it woke a fierce longing for similar companionship. It had been too long since Harry had shared something like it with someone, but he didn't like to dwell on that.

Another thing he didn't like to dwell on either were those mornings when he woke up hard and in desperate need of a wank. Considering that he usually found himself pressed up against or curled around either Remus or Sirius, he considered it a minor miracle that so far he'd managed to sneak off to shower without being caught.

And he absolutely refused to think about how the hands and tongues he imagined roaming over his body as he wanked were increasingly attached to the faces of the two men he shared a bed with.

~*~*~

On the day before the full moon, Draco delivered Wolfsbane potion with an attached note from Snape, as he did every month. Harry had ceased to try to understand why Snape couldn't or wouldn't come by himself or send the potion via owl, and he didn't really care because it meant that he'd see Draco.

Harry was sorting through a large bunch of hazel twigs for the new broom Puddlemere's Seeker had ordered when Draco pushed open the door to the shed. He was carrying two steaming mugs.

"Remus thought you might like some tea," Draco said by way of a greeting.

Harry smiled. "He'd be right about that." He took the mug from Draco and sat down on the stool next to his workbench, pushing another one towards Draco.

With a nod of silent thanks, Draco sat down as well.

"So, things are well with the old bat?"

Draco sipped his tea before answering. "Severus is doing well, thanks for asking. I assume your dogfather and the werewolf are fine, too?"

Harry grinned. "Splendid, both of them. What about you? Business going well?"

"We can't complain. Severus finally agreed to let me handle the books in their entirety and to take care of most of the personal deliveries." A shadow fell across Draco's face. "His leg has been bothering him a great deal lately. Not that he'd tell me, but I notice how heavily he leans on his cane."

Harry briefly rested his hand on Draco's arm. He would never fully grasp why or how Draco had ended up with Snape, but he certainly knew what it was like to worry about a loved one's health. After all, he went through it with Remus every month.

"I'm sure he appreciates all your help, even if he can't bring himself to say that." He lifted his mug to his lips.

Draco's eyes hardened for a moment. "Severus might not verbalise his every thought and feeling, but rest assured he knows how to tell me in other ways."

"Yes, I'm just sure he does," Harry replied, refusing to break away from Draco's gaze.

He realised they were skittering close to yet another argument about the nature of Draco's relationship with Snape, but Harry couldn't help it.

Draco drank more of his tea. His finger traced the rim of the cup, his eyes following the movement. "Not today, Potter, all right?" A crease of worry showed between his eyebrows.

"Okay," Harry agreed softly.

Draco squared his shoulders and looked up at him again. "Any news with you? You seem more alert than the last time I saw you."

"Oh. Um." Harry wasn't surprised that Draco saw a change in him—after all, he'd got more sleep in the last three weeks than he'd had in the past three months, probably. "I've found something that helps with the insomnia."

"You did? That's fantastic!" Draco's face lit up.

"Yeah." Harry downed the last bit of tea and set the mug aside. "I'm sleeping with Remus and Sirius most nights now and it really helps."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. A slow grin spread across his face.

Heat crept into Harry's cheeks. "Not like that! God. I meant that they let me sleep in their bed with them, and...well, it probably sounds strange to you, but it helps me to calm down so I can actually fall asleep."

Draco grinned even more broadly. "Uhuh."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I am not. Shagging. Remus and Sirius."

"But you'd want to?"

"WHAT? NO!" Harry flushed even more.

Draco broke out in a fit of laughter. "Okay, okay. I believe you. For now."

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Draco sobered and went on to say, "Really, I'm glad, Harry. It's good to see you more...alive again."

"Thank you. It feels good."

Draco nodded.

"If Snape ever lets you out of that quasi-dungeon you two call a potions lab, you should come flying with me. I'm just about done with the brooms for the Magpies Chasers and they could use some more tweaking."

"I'll think about it." Draco paused. "After all, Chaser was never quite my position."

"You can play Seeker games on Chaser brooms as well and you know it," Harry challenged.

Draco slid off his stool. "Well, in that case, I'll owl you."

Harry stood up as well.

"For now, I should head back. I don't like leaving Severus to himself for too long at the moment. Last week, he—" Draco's breath hitched. "Never mind."

Harry's hand ghosted over Draco's back as he held open the door for him. "Send me that owl, yes?"

Draco nodded and left. Harry watched him cross the garden, colourful leaves swirling around his feet.

~*~*~

The next night Harry stood at the window in his bedroom, watching as Padfoot and Moony set out across the garden and the fields beyond, following the excited circles they ran around each other, the nudging and pouncing until they blended into the surrounding darkness.

As always, Harry wished he could run with them.

~*~*~

"Sirius?" Remus' voice floated into the kitchen as Harry closed the back door behind himself.

"No, it's me. Um, Harry, that is." He toed off his trainers, pausing for a moment when he saw two broken tea cups on the floor.

"Oh, hello. Finished for the day?" Remus called out.

After dropping his cloak on the back of a kitchen chair, Harry made his way through the open archway into the living room, finding Remus lying down on the sofa. "Yeah. Finally finished that broom for Puddlemere's Seeker. Sirius isn't home?"

"Out on business." Remus sounded amused. He tucked the blanket that covered his legs closer around himself and slid the book he'd been reading onto the coffee table.

Harry nodded, and sat down on the very edge of the sofa, bracing himself on the back for balance. Remus shifted to make room for Harry, who gratefully scooted closer. His hand dropped down to Remus' side.

"What happened with those tea cups?"

"Oh, those." Remus waved dismissively. "They're testimony to the fact that trying to brew tea from one room over isn't really a good idea."

"But why would you..." Harry took a closer look at Remus, finding his skin paler than usual after a full moon and noting how heavily he lay back against those pillows. "You couldn't get up?" he whispered, his hand unconsciously stroking over Remus' side.

"I could have, but I didn't want to," Remus replied firmly. "I'm afraid this transformation hit a bit harder than usual."

"Why? Was there something wrong with the Wolfsbane?"

Remus shook his head. "No, it was first-rate, as always. It's just something that happens from time to time." He must have seen Harry's worried look because he added, "It's nothing to be concerned about."

Harry didn't find that comforting at all. It was too strong a reminder of just how much Remus had to endure every month. His free hand wandered up Remus' arm, across his shoulder and down his chest, as if he needed to make sure that everything was where it was supposed to be. A little left of Remus' heart, Harry's exploration halted and he pressed his palm down against the worn cotton.

"Why isn't Sirius here with you?" There was bitterness in his voice.

Remus' fingers closed over Harry's hand. "Because he knows that I don't mind a few hours to myself."

Harry looked down at their entwined hands, the lines on Remus' skin so much deeper than on his own. "You couldn't even get yourself a cup of tea."

With a firm squeeze around Harry's fingers, Remus called his gaze back up to meet his eyes. "Sirius has been through this with me many times. He never leaves my side during the hours just after the moon sets, when everything is still very...dark. Don't think he doesn't care, or underestimates the consequences of the transformation. He knows very well."

Harry's shoulders slumped. He was torn between wanting to believe Remus and giving in to the simmering annoyance at Sirius. The rational side of Harry's brain informed him that there wasn't anyone who'd lived through the full moon with Remus more often than Sirius, and that he and Remus consequently knew what the other needed during that time, but this knowledge didn't quell the protectiveness rising up in Harry.

"What's going through your mind?" Remus inquired gently.

"It's—just things." Harry didn't want to burden Remus with his confused thoughts. "Would you still like that cup of tea?"

Remus smiled warmly. "That would be lovely, thank you. And I wouldn't mind your company if you don't have other plans."

Relieved over being able to do something for Remus, Harry rose from the sofa. "None at all."

~*~*~

"Did you know that Remus was really sick after the moon?" Harry asked, tying four twigs together in a tight bundle and snipping off their ends.

Sirius looked up from polishing the light on his motorbike. "What makes you think that?"

Harry picked up another quartet of twigs. "Because I spent the afternoon with him on Tuesday and he could barely move. His joints were bothering him a lot, I think."

For a minute the only sound in the shed was the rain drumming on the roof. Sirius wiped the polishing cloth over the lamp a few more times until it shone to his satisfaction, then straightened up and walked over to where Harry was working.

"They were, yes. I swung by Snape's on the way home that day to pick up some more of that ointment Draco's been working on. It's getting better and better by the batch."

Harry trimmed the twigs and tied the two bunches of four together. "Draco's very dedicated to his work."

"That he is." Sirius leaned against the workbench, trying to catch Harry's gaze. "Why are you bringing this up?"

Setting down the pruning shears, Harry turned to Sirius. "Because...because I don't understand why you weren't there with—for Remus on Tuesday. He—"

"Did you ask him about this?"

"Yeah. He said he was fine on his own for a few hours, but you know how Remus is, he doesn't like to ask for help and—"

Sirius straightened up to his full height. "And you think I should have stayed regardless of what he said?"

Harry twirled a twig between his hands. "Well. Yes."

Sirius' left hand came up to his face and rubbed across his eyes. "I'm just going to ignore for a moment that you were implying I abandoned Moony when he needed me." He took a sharp breath. "Look, Harry, this isn't something we usually talk about—Remus and I, that is—but we try to live the day after the full moon just like any other day. I do what I'd normally do and Remus has a bit of an extended nap in the afternoon."

Harry nodded, listening.

"Of course I noticed that Remus wasn't doing so well this time around, but it was still important to both of us to stick to our usual routine. Because we can't let this—" He paused. "We live with it, and we deal with it, but we don't let it take over the time we have together."

Harry swallowed. Everything Sirius had said rang true to him, but it couldn't keep the surge of protectiveness he felt for Remus at bay. "But living with it doesn't mean ignoring it."

"We aren't ignoring it. Harry, look—" Sirius took him by his shoulders. "You love Remus, too. It would be strange if you weren't worried about him. But don't think that I wouldn't do anything—and I mean _anything_—for him."

Harry searched Sirius' eyes and found the same need to care for and protect there. He nodded slowly.

Sirius pulled him into a tight hug, which Harry responded to with equal force, the tips of his fingers digging into Sirius' back.

"Thanks for looking out for Moony," Sirius mumbled into Harry's hair. The words were short and clipped.

"Anytime."

"Come to bed tonight, all right?"

The tight hold around Harry loosened a little and he felt the brush of fingertips across his nape. "I will."

~*~*~

While Harry slept through most nights, there were still some when he would wake up and lie awake for a while. He cherished those moments because they allowed him to study Remus and Sirius as they were sleeping, unguarded and unaware that he was looking at them.

When he lay between them, he'd turn slowly from one to the other, taking note of the tiny scar on the left side of Sirius' jaw (a leftover from a stray curse during the war) or the fact that Remus' right eyebrow was a fraction shorter than the other (a potions incident during his Sixth Year). But what he liked best was lying on one side of the bed, with the two of them entangled in each other. He'd never woken up and seen them not touch in some way, even if it was just a foot pressed against a calf or a carelessly flung arm across a shoulder, or hip, or arse.

Seeing them together like this filled him with deep contentment, and he invariably moved closer until he was part of that jumble of limbs, tied into the bond that thrummed between them.

~*~*~

"So she came back the next day and insisted on receiving the potion even though she was still seven Sickles short. And Severus agreed to it. And then she dared to send us a Howler complaining about the shoddy quality! I hate that cow." Draco paused and took a deep breath, no doubt in preparation for more ranting.

Harry was highly amused. There were two pink flecks on Draco's cheeks, and a few obstinate strands of hair kept falling into his eyes. One of Draco's hands shot up to tuck them behind his ear. The sleeve of his jumper slid down a bit, revealing a thick strip of reddened skin that looked severely chafed.

"It gets better. We owled her back, of course and..."

The words floated past Harry, all his attention focused on Draco's wrist. His own hand twitched; he'd reached out before realising what he was doing. "What—what happened?"

"Pardon?" Draco looked confused, his eyes flicking to Harry's fingers, which hovered to the left of his face.

Harry briefly touched Draco's wrist, then withdrew his hand. "What happened there?" he asked again, softly.

Draco studied the exposed skin for a moment before tugging the sleeve of his jumper over it. He looked squarely at Harry. "Severus tied me up last night and things got a little too...enthusiastic."

Harry blinked. "Enthusiastic?" he echoed.

"Yes. I can elaborate, but you were never really keen on hearing those kinds of details before."

Harry held up a hand. "And I'm still not."

Draco nodded and resumed his tale, but Harry's thoughts drifted. It would take quite a bit of force to cause the kind of chafing visible on Draco's wrists. Where else had that force come to bear on Draco's body? Were there other marks, hidden away under that expensive jumper and trousers? Harry felt his stomach twist. These weren't acts that people did to each other when they cared for each other, like Draco always claimed.

"Is he hurting you?" Harry blurted out.

"Wha—who? You mean Severus?" Draco frowned.

"Yeah."

"What on earth makes you think that?"

Harry pointedly looked at Draco's wrists.

"Merlin, Harry, have you never—well, I suppose not. No, Severus isn't hurting me. Not unless I ask him to, and even then, it's not so much that he hurts me, but..." Draco trailed off. "Severus and I have a very clear understanding of where our personal limits are in terms of...these matters. He would never do anything to me that I didn't ask for or didn't agree to."

The entire time Draco spoke, he held Harry's gaze, an earnest look in his eyes. It only contributed to Harry's unease, but at last he could be sure that Draco was telling him the truth. No matter how many times Draco tried to explain his relationship with Snape, it was difficult for Harry to grasp how it could be born out of care, or maybe even out of love. By piecing together tidbits of Draco's sometimes too-frank accounts of his exploits with Snape, Harry had gathered that they never shared a bed unless they were intimate, or how there was little affection between them outside of the bedroom. It all seemed so cold to Harry, so undesirable.

He cleared his throat, realising he'd never answered Draco. "Okay. I just—just had to make sure."

A hint of a grateful smile appear on Draco's face. "Of course."

"Why didn't you heal your wrists?"

Draco hesitated, his gaze dropping away, seemingly fixing on the row of unfinished brooms on one side of the shed. When he spoke, his voice was soft, barely audible. "Because they help me to remember what happened between me and Severus that night."

Draco seemed lost in thought. Not wanting to disturb him, Harry busied himself with putting away a few of the tools he'd been working with.

"But—" Harry began after a while. "But don't they bother you? I've had a few injuries like that and they weren't pleasant."

Draco flinched at the word "injury." "The skin's a bit itchy, but—"

"I've a salve that might help. Working with so much wood, I always seem to nick myself and...and I keep it around for that." When Draco didn't respond, Harry added, "Please. It's got to do more than just itch."

Draco's head bobbed in a single nod.

Harry rummaged through the box on the far side of the workbench until he found the tin holding the salve. He dragged a stool over to where Draco sat. "All right."

He unscrewed the lid and placed the tin where he could easily reach it before gently taking hold of Draco's arm and pushing his sleeve up to his elbow. With the long fringe falling into Draco's face, Harry could only make out his lips.

"You'll tell me if I put on too much pressure, okay?" Harry asked.

Another nod.

Harry scooped some salve out of the tin and slowly spread it over the reddened skin, lightly holding on to Draco's arm. He felt the play of muscles in reaction to his touches and allowed it to guide him in how firmly he could press down. Taking care to include areas beyond the immediately affected stripe, his fingers wandered to the edge of Draco's palm and back up his arm.

"Okay, all done with this one," Harry murmured.

He'd been working diligently on the other wrist when Draco's voice cut through the silence. "So when your dogfather and the werewolf happen to bruise themselves during one of their escapades, is this what happens? Some sort of communal salve-application?" The teasing tone didn't mask the slight tremble in Draco's voice.

Harry continued as if he hadn't noticed it, or the way Draco's chest rose and fell a little too rapidly. "Um, sometimes. Remus has problems with his joints, and Sirius is good about making sure that there's always some of your ointment around." Harry had never really given much thought to this. "After the moon, whoever's around helps Remus apply it. 's not a big deal."

"Right. Of course not."

Harry frowned, but didn't reply, concentrating on finishing up with the salve. "There." He dropped Draco's arm.

"Thank you. Feels wonderful," Draco whispered while sliding down his sleeves once more. He stood up and reached for his cloak, which sank around his shoulders in an elegant swirl. "I should go."

Harry thought that was rather sudden. Draco usually stayed for an hour or longer, and he hadn't been there for more than twenty minutes. "Everything all right?"

"Fine." Draco's eyes were unreadable. "I'll see you next month."

"Not if we finally try out those brooms first."

The corners of Draco's lips quirked. "We'll see about that."

With those words, he slipped out of the shed. Harry stayed behind and straightened up some more, wondering about Draco's sudden change in demeanour. When everything was in its place, he crossed the garden, long shadows falling across the path that was barely visible in the fading light.

Remus was stirring a big pot of something that smelled heavenly when Harry entered the kitchen. After kicking off his shoes, he made a beeline towards the stove, only to be stopped by Remus' outstretched hand.

"Dinner isn't for another half an hour."

"But—"

"You're like Sirius, always trying to spoil your appetite. You can set the table to make time pass more quickly."

"You really need to watch yourself because you're starting to sound an awful lot like Molly," Harry countered, ducking the tea towel Remus threw at him.

"I'm not going to dignify that comparison with a response. Even if Molly is a lovely woman."

Remus went back to stirring, and Harry levitated plates, glasses, and cutlery to the table.

"Draco seemed rather preoccupied on his way to the Floo," Remus remarked casually.

"Did he?" Harry directed the plates to their usual places, followed by forks and knives.

"Hmmm."

As Harry gathered three napkins from a drawer, he contemplated whether or not to tell Remus about what had happened between him and Draco in the shed, or if that violated some sort of unspoken agreement. Maybe some sort of middle ground would be the best solution because he did want to talk to Remus about some of the things he'd learned.

Napkins neatly folded next to the plates, Harry grabbed a sponge off the sink and moved to stand next to Remus, pretending to wipe away a few splatters of yellow liquid that were congealing on the worktop. Leek and Potato for dinner, then, Harry thought.

"Remus," he began.

"Yes?"

"Have you—have you and Sirius ever tied each other up? During, um, sex, I mean?" Harry rubbed at the stain.

A lid clanked against the pot. "This could probably do with a warming charm for now." Remus gently took the sponge out of Harry's hands. "Why don't we sit down, hmm?"

Harry wiped his soapy hands on his jeans and followed Remus to the table. "You don't have to tell me. I was just curious."

"I don't mind telling you. Sit down."

Harry sat and immediately started fiddling with one of the napkins until Remus' fingers closed over his hand. He looked up and found Remus' warm gaze on him.

"To answer your question, yes, Sirius and I have used restraints before. In fact, it's something we do quite often. Is there any particular reason why you're asking?"

Harry swallowed. "It came up today. With Draco."

"Ahh."

"Why do you do it?"

"I gather from that question that you've never tried it yourself? I thought that maybe you and—"

Harry quickly shook his head. There was that feeling again, of not being part of something that seemed normal or something he should probably want. "I can't really see how—it's not something I'd want, or want to do to someone."

"Too many bad memories?" Remus asked softly.

Harry couldn't bear to look at Remus. "Yeah."

Remus moved his chair closer. "I think it's perfectly reasonable that someone with your...past might not want to bring anything that reminds you of it into a situation that should be free of fear or anxiety."

The words washed over Harry, calming him, and he was grateful for Remus' patience and understanding.

"But for someone who hasn't had those experiences, it can be an incredibly powerful moment to hand over control or to be given control like that. You agree to trust that person, to give yourself over, or you promise not to exploit the trust given to you."

Harry nodded. It wasn't too difficult to imagine this exchange of trust between Remus and Sirius, but between Snape and Draco? He found it hard to believe anyone could trust Snape to such a degree.

"I see a frown there," Remus observed.

Harry looked up. "I was just thinking about—" He broke off, still uncertain if he was somehow betraying Draco's trust.

"About Severus and Draco?"

"Yeah. I suppose that was rather obvious, huh?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"I just—" Harry shifted restlessly. "I just don't understand what Draco sees in him, I guess. And why he lets Snape treat him the way he does."

"In what way?"

Harry pondered whether to tell Remus about Draco's wrists, but then decided it was too private a thing to divulge. "In ways I wouldn't want to be treated by someone who claims to—to care for me a great deal."

Remus leaned back in his chair for a moment, then straightened up again, bracing his elbows on the table. "Perhaps there are sides to Severus you don't know, that only Draco sees. And there are probably events—experiences in the past the two of them share that they might not be able to share with anyone else."

"But that doesn't explain why he's so...so cold to Draco all the damn time. I think—" Harry paused. "I'm fairly sure things aren't much different when they are alone."

Remus clasped his hands and leaned forward. "I understand how this is all very confusing, and I have to admit that I wouldn't particularly care for such a relationship myself, but you have to remember that we're only looking at this from the outside. You can't know what it means to Draco and Severus. They might look at me and Sirius and find what we have very strange, too."

Harry remembered Draco's question about the communal salve application from earlier and found himself nodding slowly. "Yeah, maybe."

"Has Draco ever indicated to you that he's unhappy with Severus?"

Harry searched his memory. "No, not really."

"I thought so."

They both fell silent, caught up in their thoughts, until Sirius sauntered into the kitchen. "Couldn't help overhearing a bit of what you two were discussing just now," he said on his way to the fridge.

"That's really not very polite, Padfoot," Remus admonished.

Sirius shrugged and fished a butterbeer from the top shelf. He drank deeply from the bottle before fixing Remus with a leering gaze. "You should see him, Harry. Spread out on the bed, struggling and yet willing to take—"

"Sirius," Remus cut in sharply. "I think that's quite enough."

Harry sat very still, the image of Remus writhing against white sheets burning in his mind.

"Thought I'd offer Harry a slightly more vivid perspective, that's all."

Cheeks heating up, Harry stood up hastily. "I, huh, am going to wash my hands. For dinner."

Trying to look at neither Remus nor Sirius, he bounded out of the kitchen and up the stairs into the bathroom. He leaned against the door, catching his breath, still not able to banish that image of Remus. He could see the arch of Remus' back, Sirius climbing up his body and leaning down for a kiss...

Harry's cock throbbed, and he pressed the heel of his hand against it. _No, no, no,_ he chanted to himself, which didn't make any difference whatsoever. He took a few deep breaths, hoping that he might calm down, to no avail. There was no way he could go down to dinner in such a state.

With a growl of frustration, he flipped open the button of his jeans and yanked down the zipper. He spit into his hand before reaching for his cock, pulling with rough strokes. The tell-tale tightening all over his body set in nearly immediately, and he spilled over his fingers moments later.

As the euphoria ebbed away, Harry's earlier confusion came back with full force. He slid down the door and leaned back against it, wondering what he should do now.

~*~*~

"Can't sleep?"

Remus' breathed question broke against Harry's nape as he settled into bed.

"Heard you get up," Harry replied, yawning. He wondered what time it was. His body told him he'd been asleep for a few hours already, but there was no hint of dawn yet.

"We need to do something about those floorboards."

Harry tucked himself closer to Remus. "They usually don't bother me. No idea why I woke up."

Remus' arm came around him, which Harry took as a sign of going back to sleep. But the fingers on his back kept moving, light scratches over one patch of skin. The slow movements held the promise of more half-whispered conversation.

~*~*~

The following Saturday began with a chill in the air and grey light filtering through the curtains. Not quite ready to face an overcast, possibly rainy day, Harry burrowed deeper under the covers, content to spend more time ensconced in the warmth radiating off the two bodies on either side of him.

He'd been almost lulled back to sleep when a hand briefly touched his shoulder. Blinking sleepily up at Sirius, Harry could make out a finger pressed against lips, accompanied by a quiet "shh."

Sirius leaned over Harry, one hand braced on the mattress between his and Remus' body, and whispered, "Moony."

Remus stirred but remained asleep.

"Moony," Sirius repeated more loudly, nuzzling against his neck. "Time to get up."

This time, Remus' eyes opened slowly. A frown spread between his brows, but it melted away quickly, replaced by a mixture of delight and contentment, almost as if he hadn't seen Sirius for a long time or couldn't quite believe who he was looking at. Before Remus had the chance to say anything, Sirius kissed him. Remus' eyes closed, and his hand found its way into Sirius' hair. He smiled as their kiss deepened.

Harry watched, a painful tightening spreading from his chest downwards. Gratitude tingled through him; he'd been invited to share this moment, to see the adoration and desire that flowed between Remus and Sirius. Yet, he wasn't a part of this (_not yet_, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of his mind) and that it had been a long time since he'd kissed someone in a way that involved handing over a part of himself.

He untangled a hand from the sheets and ran it up Sirius' back, needing contact. Muscles rippled minutely under his palm, not quite a shudder, but a definite acknowledgment of his touch.

Sirius pulled back from the kiss. "Good morning."

Remus smiled, but remained quiet. His hand moved around to Sirius' face, fingertips lingering against his cheek for a moment.

"I'll make breakfast," Sirius whispered.

He moved back further, his weight lifting off Harry. Pausing, he gave Harry a quizzical look.

Harry had just opened his mouth to ask if anything was the matter when he felt Sirius' lips on his, hesitant at first, then pressing down more fully when Harry didn't turn away, or give other signs that this wasn't welcome. Apparently Harry's body had already come to a decision while his mind remained frozen. The kiss remained brief, but at the same time felt too intimate to simply be a different way of saying good morning.

Sirius had the audacity to wink at what had to be a very dumbfounded expression on Harry's face before he slipped out of bed, stretched, and walked out into the hall. Only when the water came on in the bathroom did Harry shake himself out of the daze he'd fallen into.

"Welcome to the strange yet tempting world of being kissed by Sirius Black," Remus said softly.

Harry turned toward him, wanting to say something but somehow not finding the words.

"That has never really changed for me, not when Sirius really puts his mind to it."

"Like—like just now?" Harry asked, voice still scratchy with sleep.

Remus laughed. "Yes, that was a particularly good example."

Harry wanted to say that that had been rather obvious, but remained silent.

"I should go and make sure Padfoot doesn't use up all the hot water."

"Okay." Maybe if he was alone, he might be able to make some sense of all of this, Harry thought.

Remus didn't make any efforts to get up, but rather studied Harry intently. When he bent down Harry was already expecting the kiss, and he leaned into it. As before with Sirius, their lips only touched together briefly, but there was nothing casual about it.

His focus remained on the door even after Remus had disappeared through it. The unchanging view stood in stark contrast to the jumble of Harry's thoughts, which wouldn't settle down enough for him to pick through them. He wanted to understand what had happened between the three of them, and yet he didn't, anxious about the insights he might gain. Were those kisses an invitation to enter deeper into Remus' and Sirius' relationship? Or would they become part of their sleeping arrangements, which, while quite intimate, still upheld some sort of line between affection and desire, however murky said line might have already become.

Unwilling to explore this in more depth, Harry pushed away the duvet. Tugging yesterday's jumper over his head, he made his way down the stairs.

~*~*~

Harry was eating a late lunch alone in the kitchen, reading over Hermione's latest owl, when the fireplace blazed to life.

"Anybody home?"

Harry recognised the voice instantly, and his stomach lurched a little. "Yes, hang on." He crossed the kitchen in quick strides and knelt down on the pillow in front of the green flames. "Evan."

"It's good to see you again," Evan replied warmly. "How are things? Business must be going well."

"Can't complain. Everything's fine." Harry willed his hands to stay still and not rub along his thighs. No reason to feel nervous. They'd parted amicably, after all, and the few times they'd seen each other since had been relatively easygoing.

"I'm glad to hear that. Listen, first match of the season's coming up on the twenty-seventh and I wanted to ask if you'd like to come down here that day. All of us received a pair of free tickets."

The twenty-seventh would be the day after the full moon. "I...I'm not sure I could make it that day," Harry said slowly. Remus would chide him for this, especially because Sirius would be around. But it was important to Harry to be there for Remus after the transformation.

Evan's face fell. "Oh. Well, how about I owl those tickets to you, and you can think about it. Maybe there's someone you'd like to bring along..."

"There's no one," Harry replied without thinking. The flicker of hope in Evan's eyes didn't escape him. "I mean, um. Thanks."

"You're welcome. It would be really nice to see you again."

Harry heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Remus standing in the doorway. He gave him a brief nod, and Remus stepped into the kitchen. Harry turned back to the fire. "Uhh, yeah, it would be. Maybe some other time? If I really can't make it, that is," he added hastily.

"I'd love that."

Harry smiled uneasily. "Good luck with practice and everything."

"Thank you. Bye, Harry."

Evan's head disappeared and the fireplace went cold. Harry lingered for a few more moments, listening to the sounds of Remus opening and closing cabinet doors.

"Would you like a cup of tea as well?" Remus asked, looking over his shoulder.

Pushing himself to his feet, Harry nodded. He looked at the remaining bits of his sandwich, but didn't feel hungry anymore. Sitting back down at the table, he watched Remus make tea, which was a very precise undertaking. Harry had observed it many times before and its familiarity was comforting.

"He asked you out?" Remus asked as he sat down, pushing one cup toward Harry.

Steam curled in front of Harry's face, warm puffs against his skin. "In a roundabout way. Asked me to come to their first match."

"Ah. But you turned him down?"

"I said I'd think about it."

Remus blew on his tea. "In other words, you don't want to go."

Sometimes it was annoying that Remus knew him so well. "Yeah. I'll give the tickets to Ron. He'll be thrilled to go."

After two long sips, Remus said thoughtfully, "And you wouldn't enjoy seeing that match? Forget about Evan. Appreciate the gift, go with Ron, enjoy yourself."

Harry had to concede that Remus had a point—he would enjoy that. "It's the day after the full moon."

"So?"

"I—" Harry drew in a breath. "I'd rather be here. With you and Sirius." He could see Remus getting ready for a lecture on how it was unnecessary for Harry to stay home that day, so he quickly added, "I know you'd rather I go out and—but look, this is about what I'd most like to do, isn't it? And I want to be here that day."

Remus' gaze steadily remained with Harry the whole time, even after he'd finished speaking, studying him as if there were more he needed to hear, to know. Finally, he said, "All right. But I wish you'd go out more often."

The unspoken "so that you can meet someone" was perfectly clear. Harry's hand folded around his cup and he lifted it to his mouth, drinking down half its contents. The tea was perfect, as it always was when Remus brewed it. "I've told you before that I'm quite happy with how my life is right now. And yes, I did enjoy those four months with Evan, but I don't want to be with someone who's always away, always needs to attend this party and that press conference. It's—" _too unsettled_, his mind supplied. "If I'd wanted that, I might have gone into Quidditch myself."

Remus drained the last of his tea. "I only want you to be happy."

Harry leaned towards him, his fingers almost touching Remus' wrist. "But I _am_ happy here." After a moment's hesitation, he added, very quietly, "You and Sirius make me happy."

Something changed in Remus' expression. He looked startled, perhaps. As if he hadn't expected Harry to say this. He was on the brink of speaking when the back door opened and Sirius rushed through it.

"Bloody rain! Forecast's completely unreliable. Should've added a repellent charm to—" Sirius paused, looking back and forth between Remus and Harry. "Am I interrupting something?"

"We were talking about—Evan. He Firecalled," Harry offered.

Sirius grinned. "Did he now?" He hung his wet jacket on a peg by the door and drew out his wand, which was dripping with water.

"Yes, but Harry did a fine job of letting Evan see that he's not interested," Remus observed.

Harry muttered a sarcastic "thanks" under his breath while Sirius shook his head. "Turning down fit blokes who lie at your feet. Don't know what's wrong with you."

"I already explained all of that to Remus, so he can fill you in." There was more sulk in his voice than his feelings on the matter warranted, but Sirius wouldn't stop nettling him otherwise.

Sirius' attention had shifted to his wand, however. It only produced feeble sparks when swished. "Merlin's balls, that's never happened before."

Remus flicked his wand in Sirius' direction, and Harry watched the wood lighten as it dried.

"Thanks, Moony." Sirius pointed the wand at himself in a long sweep, draining his soaked clothes of all the water they held. A large puddle formed around his feet, which Harry banished with a twist of his hand.

"Show-off," Sirius teased.

"It comes in handy. In situations when, oh, let's see...your wand doesn't work properly," Harry retorted.

Remus laughed.

"And you!" Sirius strode over to Remus. "Turning against me. Shame on you." His hand curled around Remus' nape. Remus' head tilted to let their mouths meet.

Harry suddenly found the dregs of tea swirling in his cup utterly fascinating. If the sounds coming from his right were any indication, Remus was being kissed very thoroughly, and Harry wondered if he should maybe leave the room, but then the distracting noises ended, supplanted by Sirius' hushed voice.

"Had a good day, Moony?"

"As good as marking children's essays can be," Remus replied in that same quiet tone.

"And what about you?" Sirius turned towards Harry, his arm coming to rest on the back of the chair.

"Um, worked on my brooms for a bit," Harry managed. Sirius was really quite close to him, clear grey eyes and a bodily attentiveness that made him feel flushed.

"Hmmm."

Then Sirius moved even closer, and Harry barely had time to turn his head away. Lips grazed his jaw with a wet slide. Harry froze, staring at the floor.

"Sorry," Sirius whispered, clearly confused. He moved away and stood up.

Harry glanced at Remus, willing him to speak. Wouldn't he have something to say about this? Sirius trying to kiss Harry? It was one thing to do it when they were all half-asleep, and another during the day, between tea and rain and uncrossable lines.

But Remus only looked back at Harry without any sign of being upset about the fact that the man he shared his life with had tried to kiss someone else.

"I—" Harry tried, realising it was up to him to speak. "I don't want to come between you." His voice shook.

Such a simple sentence, but to Harry it meant so many things. That the kiss had not been unwelcome; the contrary, rather. That he'd thought about this, wanted this, but that he respected what Remus and Sirius had together and would never try to intrude. It was also a plea to stop tempting him with affection that might appear perfectly harmless to them, but threw Harry into utter confusion.

Remus and Sirius exchanged what could only be called a significant look, after which Remus addressed Harry. "You won't. You're already a part of us."

A few seconds ticked by during which Harry couldn't move. Frustration tore through him because he didn't understand, or maybe didn't let himself believe that he understood Remus correctly. _A part of us_. On the one hand, it seemed so perfectly clear. Of course he was part of them—what else could he be when he lay curled up between them at night, his hand against Remus' chest and his back against Sirius' warmth? But then there were moments—fleeing their bedroom to hide his arousal, skittering back around corners because Remus and Sirius looked like they were just about to shag on the sofa—that sharply said you are one and we are us.

Sirius' arm lightly touched his shoulder, bringing Harry back to the here and now. He was squatting in front of Harry's chair, a deep frown creasing his forehead. "All right?" he asked.

Harry didn't know how to answer that question.

"Moony's right, you know," Sirius tried again.

Harry swallowed and managed to nod.

Sirius' hand fell down to Harry's hip. He straightened his back, face once again only an inch away. His nose nudged Harry's, and before Harry could even think about reacting, his head was tilting and his eyes were closing and they were kissing.

Their lips moved slowly against each other, almost hesitantly. Sirius' thumb kneaded circles over Harry's hip and his other hand pressed against his lower back, making Harry feel as if he could let himself fall and Sirius would catch him. The certainty of this tingled all the way down to his toes.

When Sirius pulled away, Harry's eyes opened to find Remus leaning over the table, short, shallow breaths flowing from his half-open mouth. Want coursed through Harry. Sirius' fingers slipped away as Harry reached for Remus, folding both arms around his shoulders. A tremble shuddered through him as a tongue swept into his mouth, unexpected yet welcome. Unlike the careful exploration with Sirius, Remus asked—demanded—and Harry yielded, pressing himself as close as the table between them allowed. What he wanted was to crawl into Remus' lap, bear down, and—

Harry drew back abruptly, needing to stop the flow of thoughts before they turned into actions. He and Remus looked at each other, both of them out of breath, and Harry instantly knew that Remus wanted him.

Harry stumbled backwards, grasping the chair behind him in the last moment before it could topple over. "I—I need to—to work some more. The brooms. Um. See you at dinner."

Sirius nodded absent-absentmindedly, and continued to stare at the now empty spot where Harry and Remus had kissed before.

As Harry slipped out the back door, he glanced back to see Remus pressing Sirius down on the table, lips attached to his neck while Sirius' hand pushed up Remus' jumper.

The door rattled in its frame when Harry shut it with too much force. He leaned against it, looking out into the rain. God. What he wouldn't give for a hard shag right about now. His head fell back. If it weren't coming down in buckets, he'd go flying now, but since he couldn't he'd settle for a long wank. Yes.

Harry barely noticed the rain pelting down on him as he ran across the garden.

~*~*~

Later that night, Harry chose to sleep in his room rather than joining Remus and Sirius. It was strange to be in a bed all by himself; he missed hearing the rhythm of sleep-filled breaths and the warmth of two bodies beside him. Even with an extra blanket over his duvet the sheets didn't provide enough protection against the night chill.

The next morning, neither Remus nor Sirius remarked on Harry's absence from their bed. But when Remus drew Harry to himself for a moment before Flooing away for tutoring and Padfoot turned up in the shed to doze at Harry's feet all afternoon, he realised that they were worried.

Harry excused himself rather early that evening and, after a brief moment of hesitation, went to lie down in Remus' and Sirius' bed, falling asleep right away.

~*~*~

In the following week, Harry's dreams became much more vivid, and he found it increasingly difficult to escape to the bathroom in time. Once he woke up to sticky pyjama bottoms and instantly felt fourteen again.

His current dream was of the particularly realistic sort, the kind where he was actually in their familiar bed and Remus and Sirius were touching him. He floated towards awareness, the caresses still fluttering over his skin. But instead of fading away, they intensified until there was no denying of their reality anymore.

Someone was indeed touching him. His sleep-hazed mind clamped down on the flip of panic in his stomach and he fell back into being not-quite-awake, but conscious enough when the wandering fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his pyjamas and brushed against his cock.

Harry moaned quietly, and received a chuckled "morning" in return. Sirius, then, who lay behind him. His hand closed firmly around Harry, moving up in one long stroke before slipping away. Harry let out an irritated noise, and tried to protest, but the words were too cumbersome in his mouth, especially when the disobedient hand slid over his thigh, pulling it up so that Sirius' own leg could slip underneath it. The movement pressed Harry more firmly against Sirius, heat beating into his skin everywhere, but particularly where his arse pushed against Sirius' groin.

The wandering fingers returned, tickling over Harry's skin, moving straight past his cock—which elicited another frustrated groan from him—and further down between his legs, kneading, pressing, and stroking until Harry was nearly keening.

"Please," he rasped.

A wet mouth latched onto his neck. "Sirius always finishes what he starts," Remus muttered before continuing to lick and suck.

Finally, Sirius' hand returned to where Harry most wanted it and started to pull him off with fast strokes. There was never enough air in Harry's lungs, no matter how much he gasped for it, and too much heat between their bodies. The pyjama bottoms were too confining, an obstacle Harry wanted to get rid of, but he couldn't move, could only tremble between Remus' mouth and Sirius' hand. He wanted them gone so that Remus' hand might join in, might slip back to where Sirius' questing fingers had lingered before, or that he might feel the press of Sirius' cock against his skin, feel it paint wet trails across his arse.

The intensity of their touches burned right through him until there was nothing left to consume, a vacuum that turned in on him before it burst outward again. Sirius continued to lightly run his fingers over him until the aftershocks had subsided. Remus' mouth disappeared, leaving cold trails behind, and for the first time that day, Harry opened his eyes.

He saw Sirius' come-stained fingers sweeping across and then into Remus' mouth, and the delight on Remus' face when he licked them clean.

_A part of us_. It echoed through Harry's mind again.

The words should have comforted him, but instead they called forth that panic he'd suppressed earlier, made it surge again, and this time, Harry couldn't push it away.

The line he'd skittered around and sometimes briefly over with Remus and Sirius had definitely been rendered obscure now; there would be no going back across it. What lay beyond seemed complicated and unknowable and threatening, sentiments he hadn't associated with Remus and Sirius before. This inkling filled Harry with dread, almost as if he were poised to lose something very precious to him.

He needed to get away. Struggling to disentangle himself from the knot of limbs he was a part of, he climbed out of bed.

"Harry, what—" Sirius called out, mingling with Remus' pleading, "Wait!", but Harry was already in the hall.

The bathroom felt like a sanctuary. He sank down on the edge of the bath, catching his breath. A few moments passed before there were knocks against the door.

"Harry?" Remus' anxious voice was muffled.

"'m fine. Just need to be alone."

Silence.

"Are you—upset? About what we did?"

Remus usually wasn't so tentative with words. It unsettled Harry even more. He wasn't sure how to answer the question. He didn't regret what had happened between them; he wouldn't want to change anything about it if he could. It had undone him like very few experiences with other people had before.

"No," he replied with much hesitation. "It's not that. I—can we talk later?" _If at all_. He wasn't sure if he could put his jumbled feelings into words.

"Of course." Remus sounded much more like himself. "Breakfast will be ready soon, if you want to come down."

Harry was grateful that Remus gave him the option of more time and space to himself, and he knew he'd keep Sirius at bay, too, if that were necessary. Standing up, Harry turned on the shower.

Casting flying charms was a lost cause today, Harry quickly realised after he'd nearly rendered a broom unusable. His mind was wandering too much to weave the complicated spells necessary to set a racing broom apart from ordinary brooms. Perhaps this was a good day to catch up on neglected paperwork.

Harry had finished sorting invoices, receipts, and other owl post into three piles when the door handle of the shed creaked.

Sirius' head appeared around the barely opened door. "Can I come in?"

"'Course, yeah," Harry mumbled.

If Sirius, who usually seemed to lack any sense of decorum, was that cautious about approaching Harry, he had to be rather worried about the reception he might get. Harry couldn't blame him. After all, he'd skipped out on breakfast and now it was nearly lunch time. He'd considered going back to the house a few times, but something held him back.

Harry shuffled his papers. It took Sirius rather a long time to step inside, let the tray floating behind him in through the door, subsequently close said door, and levitate the tray over to where Harry was sitting. Tea and toast with jam; nothing fancy, but Harry's mouth was watering nevertheless. He reached for the nearest slice, appreciating that it was still warm.

"Thanks," he said while chewing.

Sirius relaxed minutely. "Thought you might be hungry." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Well. I suppose I'll just get back to..." He gestured towards the house.

This was exactly what Harry had wanted to avoid. This kind of awkwardness. It was uncomfortable and wrong and Harry wouldn't tolerate it. Not between him and Sirius.

"You don't have to leave."

Sirius still seemed to hover between staying and leaving.

"C'mon, sit down."

Sirius slid onto the unoccupied stool. He remained silent while Harry ate another piece of toast and sipped some tea. "I hear Hermione does a good Obliviate if you feel in need of it," Sirius finally said.

Harry's lips quirked with a not-quite-there laugh. "I don't."

Sirius squirmed on his seat. "Is this about coming between me and Moony again? Because no offense, Harry, but if Azkaban didn't manage that, I don't think you will."

Harry looked up from pushing crumbs around on his plate. They didn't talk about Azkaban, ever. Of course Harry knew it was part of Sirius' past, but he'd never fully considered the impact it must have had on his relationship with Remus. They'd been together at school, and maybe they'd hoped for a life with each other, just like his parents had. And then everything had been taken away in a single moment—

Harry pressed his lips together.

"Hadn't thought about that, had you?" Sirius asked softly.

"No." But there was something he'd always been curious about. "Did Remus—did he see other people while you were—were away?" Harry held his breath, hoping he hadn't gone too far by asking that.

"He did," Sirius replied a little too evenly.

Harry nodded. He hadn't expected a different answer, considering the circumstances of Sirius' arrest.

"But all that's in the past."

"Right, yeah." Harry's head was swimming with too many thoughts that pulled him this way and that. He looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. He couldn't stop his thumb from running over the back of his hand. Back and forth, back and forth.

"I don't want things to change between us," Harry blurted out, not quite aware how the words had been building inside him until they had been spoken.

"Things are already changing."

He'd known that, hadn't he? It wasn't the changes he was feared, but rather what followed. "I can't lose you," Harry whispered.

Warm hands curled into the space behind Harry's knees, pulling him forward until his thighs were framing Sirius'. The hands wandered further up to this waist and linked behind his back.

"You won't. We're not going to allow it."

The fierce determination in Sirius' voice cut through the anxiety that had been knotting in Harry's stomach. He pulled his glasses off with a shaky hand, then flung his arms around Sirius' shoulder and burrowed as close to him as he could. He needn't have worried so much. They were okay. Everything was okay, and he'd—they'd figure out how to go from here.

Sirius' hand ran up and down Harry's back, and his breath tickled against his ear when he spoke. "Remus is going to have my hide when he finds out that I talked to you. He gave me strict orders not to before he left for tutoring. You know how he gets, all stern and serious, about how we need to let you come to us and so on."

Harry tightened his hold on Sirius. "He doesn't need to know. It can be our secret."

Sirius loosened the embrace, but didn't completely let go of Harry. "Nah, he'd find out sooner or later. And I like when Remus gets aggressive."

In the past, Harry might have teased Sirius for making lewd remarks like that, but now he felt arousal spike through him. "I can imagine."

Sirius' eyebrows rose and fell, followed by a broad grin. "After this morning, I'm sure you can."

~*~*~

Harry was washing the plate and cup Sirius had brought to him when Remus came home from tutoring. He smiled at Harry and hung up his cloak. It was odd seeing him in robes; they all wore Muggle clothes around the house.

"How did it go today?" Harry asked, rinsing the cup with cold water.

"As it always does. Some are eager and want to learn, others not so much." Remus walked over to stand next to Harry. "Do you have a moment?"

Harry turned off the water and rested his hands on the edge of the sink. Drops ran down his fingertips and splashed on the dull metal.

Remus' hand sought Harry's waist. "Everything all right?"

That hand exerted gentle pressure and Harry followed it, leaning against Remus. "Yeah."

"Good." Lips brushed against the side of Harry's neck. "You know I love you, don't you?"

Harry shivered. His balance shaky for a moment, he grasped the edge of the sink. The hand on his side immediately tightened its hold, steadying him.

"I do," Harry managed hoarsely.

It's not as if he hadn't known—of course he knew—but to hear it spoken aloud like that was different. The modulation in Remus' voice, the way he was holding him, that soft press of lips all lent a depth to those words that Harry hadn't fully expected there.

"And Sirius does, too. He was half out of his mind this morning, worried he'd ruined his entire relationship with you because of what he did."

Harry nodded. He could very well imagine Sirius pacing the length of the house, muttering to himself. No wonder he'd ignored Remus' plea. For a moment, Harry considered telling Remus about the conversation he'd had with Sirius, but then decided that was something they had to figure out between themselves. He wanted to respond to what Remus had just told him, though. Was he supposed to say those words back to him? Harry had said them before, to Ron and Hermione, and it had been easy then, but this was different, with too much hanging in the balance.

Remus' hand fell away, perhaps because he felt their conversation was over. Harry grasped his arm. "Remus—" He swallowed, the words lodged in his throat, unmoving.

Remus looked at Harry attentively, waiting without an air of expectation. Harry knew he could walk away now and it would be fine, that Remus wouldn't find it strange that Harry hadn't said anything. It was that certainty that made Harry tug on Remus' arm, pulling him closer.

He found Remus' mouth opening easily under his lips. Whatever Harry gave was returned with equal force, but Remus never tried to take charge of the kiss, following Harry's lead and clearly enjoying the lazy, slow twining of their tongues. As he wrapped his arms around Remus, Harry thought he could kiss like this forever. He smiled when a pair of arms came around him a moment later. When Harry's legs had almost turned into jelly, Remus pulled away.

"This can go many ways now," he whispered, his lips finding their way back to Harry's neck. "It's up to you what we do."

Harry tilted his head, exposing more skin to Remus. "What?" His thoughts were sluggish and couldn't quite decipher what his ears had just picked up.

"What do you want?"

Remus pressed closer to Harry. Even through layers of robes and his befuddled state of mind, it was quite clear that Remus was hard. Harry pushed back, and there was friction, and oh—

Hands stilled Harry's hips. "Tell me what you want."

Remus' voice had an edge to it that shook Harry out of his daze. "What—what about Sirius?"

Making sure Harry could see his face, Remus replied, "It's fine. We've talked about this."

"This?"

"Being with you when we're not all together," Remus explained patiently.

"You already talked about that?"

"Yes. It seemed likely that it would happen sooner or later." Remus moved away, letting go of Harry completely. "Maybe we should leave things as they are for now."

Frustration burned through Harry at the thought of being left alone once more when he was this aroused and certain that Remus would seek out Sirius to shag him against the nearest available surface.

"No," he said, determined.

A glint appeared in Remus' eyes. "No? What do you want then?"

"I want—" Harry swallowed. He would get these words out. "I want you to make me come."

Remus was on him again in an instant. "That can be arranged."

They kissed again, but this time Remus didn't hold himself back. Harry groaned, his hips moving restlessly. When fingers roughly undid the button and zipper of his jeans, his whole body jerked.

Remus shoved Harry's jeans and boxers to his ankles. "Up," he ordered, one hand patting the work surface.

Harry scrambled to comply, hastily kicking off his trainers and clothes. As soon as he was seated, Remus' arms curled under his thighs and maneuvered Harry's legs over his shoulders. A quick pull on Harry's hips and his center of gravity shifted backwards, a perilous balance until Harry braced his hands on the worktop and leaned his head against the cabinet.

Remus looked up at him briefly before bending down, his tongue tracing along the line from knee to hip. Harry watched its progress, trembling over the sensation and over being so exposed, half-naked in the kitchen, effectively trapped between the cabinets and Remus' body. Even if the chances were slight that anyone other than Sirius could walk into the kitchen, it seemed to Harry as if all the world might accidentally stumble upon him and Remus. His eyes flitted to the Floo, which they only shut down at night. Anyone could call—Hermione, or Ron, or, god forbid, Molly.

Too late, Harry thought. Remus had reached the crease between hip and thigh and was licking steadily there. This was all Harry wanted to care about for now. His eyes closed and the world shrank, all sensations sharper now, ten fingertips pressing against his skin, two hands that held him securely, and one tongue that relentlessly traced over some of the most sensitive spots on Harry's body. Short, precise licks across his balls had him keening; his back arched when a long swipe traced along his cock; and when Remus' lips finally closed around the head, Harry moaned without restraint.

There was no way he was going to last long. He was already hovering on that precarious edge, and Remus was doing his best to push him over. Every time his mouth moved down, Harry felt himself slide deeper into it, fraction after fraction of skin surrounded by pressure and warmth. And then one hand around his thigh let go, immediately replaced by Harry's own, without as much of a thought. One finger—Remus' thumb, Harry mused—traced along between the cheeks of his arse, one long, hard swipe—

Every muscle in Harry's legs contracted painfully, his toes curling, then flexing, until the tension had swept out of his body and he slumped back against the cabinet and the hand that had suddenly appeared against his lower back.

Remus was planting kisses along his thigh in a near-frantic rhythm that broke into a shuddering breath and strangled sound that must have emerged from the depth of his throat. He straightened after that, easing both of Harry's legs down, and held Harry close.

Harry's eyes opened, blinking against the bright afternoon sunlight. He gasped when he saw Sirius standing in the doorway, trousers undone and one hand down his pants.

"What is it?" Remus asked, then followed Harry's line of sight.

"Bloody hell, you two," Sirius muttered, crossing the room. He glanced at Harry, then turned to Remus, whispering into his ear.

The words caused Remus' cheeks to flush, and he squirmed when Sirius' hand wound under his robes. With a kiss to his neck, Sirius let go of him, attention now on Harry. "And you..." Sirius shook his head.

Harry waited expectantly for Sirius to continue, but all he received was an insistent gaze and a hand that once again curled into space behind his knees, steadfastly holding him in place on while Sirius leaned forward and kissed him.

~*~*~

Later that evening, Harry sent an owl to Draco.

_Draco,_

I'm about to send off those Chaser brooms I told you about, but would like to put them through their paces one more time. If you have some time next Saturday, I'd like you to join me. Have you ever played Seeker games near a cliff? There's nothing better than suddenly seeing the earth drop out from under you.

Let me know.

Harry

It seemed casual enough, not giving away the desperate need Harry felt to have someone else pick this increasingly complicated whatever-it-was with Remus and Sirius apart and tell him that he wasn't about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Draco's reply was prompt, arriving only an hour later.

_See you Saturday at 3 o'clock. Be prepared to be soundly beaten._

-DM

~*~*~

Saturday arrived with a chill in the air that gradually gave way to a sun-soaked autumn day. Draco tumbled out of the Floo at precisely three o'clock, a challenging smirk on his face that only widened as they gathered the brooms and Apparated to the coast.

Harry hadn't flown with someone this good in a long while, and he wondered if Draco wasn't secretly playing in some sort of amateur Quidditch league. After a few initial tests regarding the speed and ease of maneuvering on the new brooms, the results of which Harry would later use to tweak them, Draco released the Snitch he'd brought. They dived and looped around the cliffs until they were equally exhilarated and exhausted (and Draco had made good on his promise, beating Harry three out of four games).

They landed on a grassy patch near the edge of a gently sloping cliff, dropped the brooms and nearly stumbled to the ground. Harry still felt the world spinning around him even though he lay flat on his back, and it took a while for earth and sky to right themselves.

"Out with it, Potter. I know something's bothering you."

Harry drew in a breath of protest, realised the futility of denial, and let the air whoosh out of his mouth. "That obvious, am I?"

"No. But I live with Severus, remember."

That would probably turn anyone into an expert on suppressed or withheld emotions, Harry thought. He sat up; this wasn't a conversation he could have lying down. "Well, the thing is that—" He paused, trying to think of a way to bring all the events of the past month and the accompanying confusion into a coherent summary. "I told you that Remus, Sirius, and I often share bed. Because of my insomnia."

"Yes."

"There's more to it now."

"More?" Draco echoed.

"Um, yeah. Like, kissing, and touching, and...things of that sort."

"I can't say I'm surprised." Draco sounded smug and Harry wanted to smack him for it. Folding his hands behind his head, Draco continued, "I gather that this isn't purely happy news?"

Harry plucked a few blades of grass out of the soil. How to answer that, when there were moments when he felt so cherished, when sometimes a brief touch was enough to nearly undo him?

"It's complicated," he finally said.

"Every relationship is complicated," Draco retorted.

"I know. But there's so much at stake. What if this isn't going to work out? I can't lose them, Draco. I can't. They're—" Harry hesitated, trying to find the right words. "They're my family, and I don't want to risk that."

Draco sat up as well. "Have they given you any indication that they have doubts about this new arrangement? Or are they pushing you into something you don't want?"

Harry shook his head. "No. They are...they're doing everything to show me that they're certain about this, about me. Makes me feel stupid sometimes for having so many doubts."

"It's not stupid," Draco replied quietly. "Tell me why you want to be with them."

Harry hadn't expected that question. He yanked at a few more handfuls of grass, at a loss for how to put what he felt into words.

"If you can't, tell me the first thing that comes to mind when you think about them."

"Safe. Alive. Remus makes me feel safe, and Sirius makes me feel alive."

Draco smiled. "You're such a sap."

Harry swatted his arm. "Am not. You asked, remember?"

"Fine, fine." Draco laughed, but sobered quickly. "Look, it's obvious that there's a lot that ties the three of you together, so maybe you should give into that Gryffindor instinct of yours and go for it."

Harry sighed and mumbled. "'m already going for it."

"Excuse me, what was that?"

"I said—what I meant is that we may have already _gone_ for it. Sort of." Harry's cheeks flushed.

"Sort of?"

"Well, Remus very nearly shagged me in the kitchen yesterday."

Draco grinned. "And why only 'very nearly'?"

"Because he gave me the best blowjob of my life instead." Harry's heart was beating rather fiercely.

"I see."

Harry looked out over the edge of the cliff, down where the waves broke against protruding rocks. "Remus said he loves me." When Draco didn't respond, Harry went on. "When he said it—he said it in the same way he'd say it to Sirius. It was—god." He shivered again, just like he had the day before when Remus had whispered in his ear. "Is that even possible? To love two people at the same time? Equally?"

Draco frowned. "I do think it's possible, yes. I'm not sure if I—" He halted. "I seem to be rather single-minded when it comes to attaching myself to another person."

Harry was uncertain about having understood everything Draco had said. "So...you love Severus? You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"You know that my relationship with Severus has some rather...unique qualities to it. I love him, yes. But being in love? That's—that's perhaps not how I'd characterise our relationship."

Harry glanced at Draco. "As long as you're happy." It was almost a question.

Draco gave him a jerked nod in response.

"Are you?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco glanced down. "It's been a while since I've been truly happy, but that doesn't have anything to do with Severus. Rather the opposite. He's the reason why I'm as content as I am. There are things he helps me with...helps me through."

Harry wanted to press Draco on that point because the possibility that his friend wasn't happy didn't sit well with him. But obviously the relationship with Severus offered something important to Draco, something he might not find with someone else. "That's—that's good."

"Yeah."

Harry leaned back on his hands, face turned towards the sun. Eyes closed, he enjoyed the warmth that prickled pleasantly against his skin.

"Have you thought about setting up a few basic rules for the relationship the three of you are going to have?" Draco asked evenly.

"What do you mean, rules?"

"I mean some guidelines you all agree to. For example, are Lupin and Black going to carry on as before, or not?"

Harry squinted at him. "You mean whether or not they'll still sleep with each other when I'm not there?"

Draco nodded.

The answer seemed so obvious to Harry. "Why wouldn't they? They've been together for ages, of course they'd still want to just be with each other. I'd never ask them to stop."

"You wouldn't? I would."

"Really?"

"It would probably be the first rule I'd insist on. No sex unless all three of us are in the same room." Draco sounded rather adamant about that.

"But they—Draco, they've been together since school. There are things they share that I have no part in."

Draco gazed at him curiously. "So it doesn't bother you?"

"It's got nothing to do with me."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because it—I don't really see how that's part of what I have with them. It's as if I'd suddenly expect them to understand everything I've shared with Ron and Hermione. It doesn't make sense."

Draco cocked his head. "Are there things about you, Weasley, and Granger that I should know about?"

Harry laughed. "God, no. You have such a one-track mind."

"I am rather relieved that nothing of _that_ sort ever went on. The thought is simply too disturbing."

"I'm glad I could clear that up for you." Harry closed his eyes again, soaking up more of the late afternoon sun. "So, do you and Severus have any basic rules?"

A rustle of clothes conveyed Draco's hesitation, maybe even discomfort, and Harry was about to retract the question when a quiet intake of breath indicated Draco was going to answer after all.

"We do. There is a book on our night stand that contains all the rules we've made so far."

Harry pictured their bedroom—not that he'd ever been inside of it, but he was sure that it was very simple, nothing like the clutter and mismatched furniture that characterised the room he shared with Remus and Sirius—and saw a leather-bound book on a sturdy table, maybe a quill beside it. "How many rules are there?"

"Seventy-four."

"And you remember all of them?" Harry kept his eyes closed. Maybe it would be easier for Draco to talk about this if he didn't feel like Harry was looking at him.

"Not all of them are in effect every day," Draco explained quietly. "Some I know by heart. 'I will never force myself upon you.'" Reverence wove between the words. "'I will always respect you.'"

"I'd think that those go without saying," Harry observed.

"That's why they are the first two in the book. There are others that are more...mundane. Number eleven might interest you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It's 'I will always bring the Wolfsbane potion to Lupin on the day before the full moon.' That rule's only for me, obviously."

"So you have different rules for each of you?" That sounded rather complicated.

"Yes."

"Hmm."

"You find all this very strange, I bet." Draco's words held a defensive edge.

Harry finally opened his eyes again, bright spots dancing in his field of vision. "Well...maybe a little. But that's only because it wouldn't work for me. Doesn't mean it isn't a good solution for you and Severus."

He sincerely hoped Draco understood that he wasn't judging the relationship he had with Snape. Draco had every right to choose to organise his love life in such a way, even if Harry didn't understand why he'd want to.

"And the chaos that is sure to erupt in your household would certainly not work for me," Draco declared, more teasing than serious.

Harry was relieved. "Oh, there'll be a row at some point, sure. But it'll pass."

"And then you'll shag each other silly afterwards?"

With a grin, Harry replied, "I'd hope so."

"Seems like you're willing to give this a try, then."

Harry gazed back at Draco, letting that thought sink in. "Yeah. I think I am."

~*~*~

Harry jerked out of uneasy sleep. There were noises in the hall: shuffling feet, Sirius talking in quick, insistent words--_almost there, Moony, almost, just a bit further_\--and loud whimpers that had to come from Remus but were so unlike any sounds Harry had ever heard from him.

Earlier Harry had watched them run off from the window, like every full moon, and it wasn't too unusual for him to wake up when they returned. Previously, he'd been keenly aware of those hours immediately following the transformation as their time, private and tucked away from the space they shared between the three of them. Now, there was an insistent tugging in his chest, urging him to get up and join them because he was needed.

Harry made his way to their room on unsteady legs, confused by the sudden certainty that this was the right thing to do. He peeked around the door frame to see Sirius helping Remus into bed. Both of them were naked, which made sense; why bother with clothes when there were more important things to take care of, such as making sure Remus was comfortable?

"Be right back," Sirius whispered and turned towards the door, stopping short for a second when he saw Harry. "Watch him, will you?"

Harry nodded.

"And take your clothes off," Sirius added as he hurried past.

Harry stepped across the threshold. Remus was barely visible in the shadowed light of early morning, a too small lump of limbs in a nest of tangled sheets and blankets.

Halfway to the bed, Harry hesitated, fingering the hem of his T-shirt, finally tugging it over his head. He still stood with his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his boxers, heart beating wildly, when Sirius returned.

"C'mon," Sirius urged.

Leaving his boxers alone, Harry crawled onto the bed. His fingers grasped a fistful of sheet upon his first good look at Remus. A long cut ran across his back, barely scabbed over. Small gashes littered his shoulders, some of them still open, blood smeared between them across too-pale skin. Remus' eyes were tightly shut, his lips pressed together, trying to hold back the painful whimpers that were audible nonetheless.

Harry's stomach twisted as his mind tried to reconcile this Remus with the Remus who would lie on the sofa on days after the full moon, looking slightly uncomfortable but in good spirits. He tried to catch Sirius' eye, but Sirius was applying a thick salve to Remus' back, mumbling little words of comfort all the while.

Harry finally lay down next to Remus, their foreheads nearly touching. He reached for his side, having made sure there were no wounds there, but a hissed "don't" from Sirius stopped him.

"Skin's still too sensitive," Sirius explained, and Harry withdrew his hand.

He tucked it close to his own chest lest he accidentally cause Remus any more pain. "We're both here," he whispered, "Sirius and me." He didn't know what else he could possibly do.

The corners of Remus' mouth twitched in an attempted smile. "'m glad," he rasped.

Sirius seemed to be finished with the salve because he stretched out on Remus' other side, head propped up on his arm, and his fingers carefully tangling in Remus' hair.

Harry couldn't stop thinking about how this had gone on nearly every single month of Remus' life, and how he'd never fully understood the agony the transformation brought on this man for whom he cared so deeply. He tried to lie still, but couldn't stop fidgeting, finding it impossible to be comfortable when his stomach was still roiling and his chest so tight that every breath hurt.

He finally stumbled out of bed, nearly running to the bathroom. It felt good to close the door behind him, to be away from the darkened room and Remus' pain and Sirius' impossible calm. Harry leaned heavily on the sink, the porcelain cool under his sweaty palms, and tried to force air into his lungs, but it didn't work, every breath becoming more hitched until a sob loosened that knot in his chest. His eyes burnt, and there was another sob, and another until they all blended together and he curled over the sink with his hands pressed against his face, wishing he could stop because it all hurt so very much.

Arms came around him, turning him, and he found himself gathered close to Sirius, who stroked over his hair and down his back, which only made it worse, but Sirius didn't seem to mind.

"I—I—didn't—didn't—know," Harry managed between hiccuped breaths.

"I know," Sirius murmured, "I know."

After what seemed like an impossibly long time, the sobs stopped and Harry felt exhausted, glad to be held because he might not have been able to stand up by himself. He wiped at his eyes and nose, embarrassed by the sniffles he couldn't suppress. Another minute went by before he felt steady enough on his feet to stumble over to the toilet, where he grasped some tissues so he could blow his nose. He sat down on the edge of the bath, toying with the used tissue.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" Sirius asked.

"For—" _bolting, for taking comfort away from someone who needed it more, for being stupid_...for so many things he couldn't find the strength to utter out loud. Harry shook his head.

Sirius knelt in front of him, gently taking the tissue from him to throw it into the bin. He folded his hands over Harry's. "There's nothing you have to be sorry for. I've had most of my life to get used to seeing Moony like this, and—" He paused. "It's still bloody difficult, believe me."

Harry nodded. "How d'you do it? Seeing him...like this."

"It's not a choice, is it? He needs me. That's all that matters."

"Right. Yeah." The words weighed heavily on Harry. It became clear to him that being with Remus and Sirius wasn't only a matter of being allowed to share what tied them together, but also to carry parts of the burdens they shouldered. He'd failed in that this time, but he wouldn't again. He sat up straighter. "We should go back."

"You don't have to--"

"I do. I do have to," Harry insisted.

Sirius searched his eyes and gave a terse nod. Pushing himself to his knees, he kissed Harry, who sighed into his mouth. It wasn't a particularly deep kiss, but something eased inside of Harry nevertheless, and he felt more assured about being able to face what lay ahead.

He followed Sirius back to the bedroom and slid under the sheets, settling on Remus' left side while Sirius stayed to the right.

"Thought you'd forgot about me," Remus said into his pillow, which he had bunched under his head.

"Never," Sirius replied. "Feeling better? Let me see your back."

Sirius drew back the sheet, and Harry glanced over Remus' shoulder. The cut looked much better.

"Hate to say it but Malfoy's salve is brilliant." Sirius touched his fingertips to Remus' skin. "All right, Moony?"

Remus made an affirming noise and turned onto his side. Sirius folded himself around him, right arm tightening around his middle. Remus pulled that arm up higher so it crossed his chest and pressed a kiss to Sirius' knuckles. "This is always the best part."

Foregoing words, Sirius mouthed along the juncture of Remus' neck and shoulder. His tongue darted out for a few licks across the skin a little higher up before he lay down with a contented hum.

"Harry," Remus said sleepily.

Harry moved closer until his shins bumped against Remus' legs. "Yeah?"

"Scared you, didn't I?"

Harry didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to lie, but wasn't sure either if it was the best for Remus to hear about the panic that had seized him earlier.

Apparently Remus had drawn his conclusions from Harry's silence because the back of his fingers gently swept across Harry's chest, a small half-circle encompassing as much skin as Remus could reach without lifting his hand off the mattress. "Should've seen Padfoot the first time he spent the moon with me. He had this haunted look about him for days after. Nearly got himself detention for the rest of the month 'cause he wasn't listening during lessons."

"Hey now," Sirius protested.

"'s true and you know it," Remus countered.

"I'm fine," Harry said quietly.

"Good. I like having you here right now."

Harry tucked his head under Remus' chin and laced their fingers together. He fought to stay awake until Remus' breathing had evened out, needing to know he was resting comfortably. The moment he was certain of that, Harry dropped into an exhausted sleep.

~*~*~

As always, Remus spent the next day on the sofa. In the midst of such familiarity, Harry spotted subtle differences. The weariness in Remus' controlled movements, for example, had previously escaped him. He also noticed how Sirius' hands lingered after casual touches, how he'd bend down to whisper things into Remus' ear after coming home from the supermarket instead of bounding off after a brief kiss.

It was less like looking in on and revelling in their closeness, and more like sharing the secret behind it. They'd made it through another transformation together, and life could continue on now. The necessity to affirm that trumped some of Harry's lingering doubts about the path the three of them were on. He found it easier to stretch out on the sofa next to Remus for a before-dinner nap and to kiss Sirius' neck while he was washing the dishes.

~*~*~

Roaming hands gently lifted Harry out of deep sleep. He smiled; he didn't have to open his eyes to know it was Sirius who was touching him. Being able to know this instinctively and effortlessly filled Harry with contentment.

He caught Sirius' hand and pushed it down, past the waistband of his boxers. His mouth opened with a rush of breath when fingers curled around his cock, firm but gentle. Lips touched his forehead, then moved to the small space between his brows, and the side of his nose, a rain of kisses—Remus, who liked these small, fleeting touches. Harry reached blindly, tilted Remus' face so they could kiss properly, his tongue in Remus' mouth the moment their lips met. He drew himself closer by wrapping his arms tightly around Remus' shoulders.

For the next few minutes, Harry drowned in sensations. Arousal tingled through his body in an unfamiliar way. Instead of the short bursts that pushed him towards an inevitable climax, there was a current running through him, weaving between him and Sirius and Remus. He didn't want it to stop, ever, and he wanted to draw the others deeper into it.

Harry reached down between his and Remus' body. A moan flowed into his mouth when his palm pressed against Remus' cock, the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms a flimsy barrier between skin and skin. Harry rubbed his hand until he could feel wetness spread beneath it, then tugged at the offending cloth.

"Take it off," he whispered against Remus' mouth. Turning towards Sirius, he added, "You too."

All movement stilled for a moment. Sirius asked softly, "Are you sure?"

Harry opened his eyes, his vision fuzzy with sleep and dawn-grey light. "Yes."

Clothes rustled as they were discarded and haphazardly dropped beside the bed. A slight chill settled over Harry momentarily before he felt Remus and Sirius on either side of him again. Remus' face was full of questions that Harry didn't want to hear or answer, so he kissed him once more, but soon turned over to face Sirius, who drew him close, their mouths fitting together with ease.

Harry shivered when Remus pushed the duvet off their bodies. He shivered again, more violently this time, when a questing tongue lapped at the small of his back, moving steadily lower. Harry hiked his leg up around Sirius' hip in the hope that Remus would continue his explorations, which he did so thoroughly that Harry broke away from the kiss he shared with Sirius to burrow into his shoulder. He was nearly shaking now and rather grateful for Sirius' calming hands, one on his nape, the other soothing over his side.

Just before Harry wanted to shout at Remus to stop because he might burst apart otherwise, Remus drew away. He kissed Harry's thigh, his side, and his shoulder blade before nuzzling against his neck.

"All right?" Remus murmured.

"Yeah," Harry replied, voice unsteady. "That was—it was—"

"No one's ever done that to you before?"

"No, not—I mean, yeah, they have, but not—not like this. God." Harry shuddered; he could still feel Remus' tongue in him.

"That's because Moony's got a magic tongue," Sirius said.

"You would know," Remus teased.

"Hmm, yes, I would."

They met over Harry's shoulder in a languid kiss, and Harry felt the current running through him again, deep and strong.

"Do you—" Harry began once Remus and Sirius had pulled apart, his heartbeat quickening at what he was about to ask. "Do you have any lube?"

Sirius looked surprised, and glanced at Remus, who quietly replied, "We do."

Harry swallowed and rolled onto his back. Why was this so difficult to say? To ask for? It wasn't as if he had any doubt left about whether or not he wanted to do this with them. "Will you finish what you started?"

Remus looked at him for several moments, glanced at Sirius, who nodded once and then reached over to the nightstand to retrieve a small jar. Remus took it from him, unscrewed the lid and was about to dip his fingers into it when Harry stopped him.

"Protection?" he asked.

Remus looked confused.

"Protection charms?" Harry clarified. "Or do you not use them?"

Sirius shook his head. "Haven't used one in years. Not since—" He looked at Remus. "Not since we knew there wouldn't be any other people for us. Just Moony and me."

Something settled in Remus' eyes when Sirius said that. It made Harry want to know when Remus and Sirius had made that decision, if it had been something they had talked about or had simply known at some point. He wondered if they'd made promises to one another, formal or informal.

"Harry's right, though," Remus said quietly, pulling all of them back to the here and now. "But I'm afraid my knowledge in that area is a bit rusty."

"I can do it," Harry replied. He stretched out his arm and was pleased when Remus' wand obediently flew into his hand. Whispering incantations under his breath, he drew a circle around the three of them. The familiar prickling settled over his skin, only to disappear when he finished the charm.

"Hmm, they've certainly done work on those. Much more pleasant now," Sirius mused.

Remus nodded as he rubbed his fingers together to spread the contents of the jar over them. Harry's legs fell open, and he squirmed when he saw that Sirius was reaching for the jar as well.

Propped up on one elbow, Remus nipped at Harry's jaw. "Want me to go slow? Been a while, hasn't it?"

Remus' fingers felt around Harry's entrance, pushing against it and slipping inside only to draw back almost instantly, then pushing inside again, deeper this time.

"Yeah. 's good like that, keep—keep going," Harry managed.

Sirius stretched out beside him. He raked his nails across Harry's chest, catching his nipples, which made Harry gasp and jerk, and then further down his body. The back of Sirius' hand skimmed the head of his cock, and it was already too much, especially with Remus' fingers lodged quite deeply in him. Harry pushed Sirius' hand away with an apologetic glance, but Sirius only shook his head in way that said he understood.

"Remus." Harry's voice quivered. "Now."

It took Remus far too long to withdraw his fingers, slick up his cock, and settle between Harry's legs. Even then he halted, trailing his palm up and down the inside of Harry's thighs. Remus was clearly intent on driving Harry mad, but he wouldn't get that satisfaction, even if Harry was ready to jump out of his skin. He tried to lie still, but his hips moved of their own volition: a sharp twist brought him right up against Remus, but not close enough. Scrabbling to sit up—up into Remus' lap, Harry thought, then press down—he reached for Remus' arm, but never finished the movement. With a strong but still careful grasp, Remus curled his fingers around Harry's wrists and held them down for a moment, mouthing _no_.

Harry's impatient whine turned into a stuttered gasp when Remus pushed into him with one long, fluid movement. Harry felt for Sirius' hand and held it tightly, desperate to share this feeling of _finally, finally_, but knew of no other way to do so. Sirius squeezed back.

With a roll of hips, Remus leaned down and whispered _love you_ into Harry's ear before kissing him sloppily. Harry moaned when Remus began to move, the slow measured strokes unexpectedly intense. One hand snuck between Harry and the mattress, Remus' palm hot against already heated skin. The pressure against his lower back made Harry arch, and he drew his legs even higher around Remus' waist. Their kiss disintegrated into a brushing of lips. All the while Harry kept hold of Sirius' hand, needing the contact with him.

Muscles trembled under Harry's touch when he ran his hand down Remus' back. "Let go," he said softly.

The tension Harry felt in Remus only increased.

"Let go," he repeated, then more insistently, almost like a chant, "Let go, let go, let go," until Remus' hips snapped forward and his head dropped to Harry's shoulder.

Disentangling his fingers from Sirius', Harry wrapped both his arms around Remus, needing him as close as possible. He turned his head towards Remus, cheek against matted hair. Both of them were so close now. The current that had flown so steadily before now sparked and spiked. A hand wound between their bodies—Sirius' hand—to close around Harry's cock. Rough strokes had Harry keening within moments, and he knew there was no way to hold back. He came violently, shuddering for a long while before falling back to the mattress.

Remus' head lifted off his shoulder and Harry looked up at him just as he went rigid, his eyes fluttering closed. He looked beautiful in that moment, Harry thought, and he gathered Remus into his arms when all tension had seeped out of his body.

They lay still for long moments. Harry drew lazy circles down Remus' spine, all the way to his arse, wishing he never had to move. Even though most of his senses were keenly attuned to Remus, he still felt Sirius' presence at his side.

"Moony," Sirius said after a while.

Remus grunted, but his eyes remained closed.

Sirius nudged Remus' cheek with his nose. "Moony, please."

"Hmm." He didn't move.

"Moooony—"

"Shhh. Heard you the first time. Had to catch my breath first." With a kiss to Harry's chest, Remus moved away, straddling Sirius and pinning both his hands to the bed.

Sirius pushed up against Remus. "Please," was all he said.

"All right." Remus let go of his hands.. After a quick search through rumpled sheets, Remus had located his wand. Two flicks had Sirius' wrists bound to one of the bed posts. "Now let's see how much you can beg, shall we?"

Sirius whimpered and pulled on his restraints as Remus lowered himself between his legs. Remus teased him mercilessly, licking across and sucking on patches of skin on his belly, his hips, and his thighs.

Harry knew exactly how Sirius felt, having been in the same place before. He wondered what it would be like to have his hands bound, unable to touch or direct Remus' attention to where he'd have wanted it. The renewed stirring in his groin provided one answer, countered by a twist in his stomach. Watching was enough for now, no matter how much he trusted Remus.

Remus made his way up Sirius' body, stopping here and there: an open-mouth kiss a little above his belly button, a playful bite near the top of his ribs. Both elicited a helpless moan from Sirius and a knowing smile from Remus. It was obvious that Remus knew exactly where to place his mouth to draw the most delicious sounds from Sirius.

When they were finally face-to-face, Sirius mumbled "Moony" in such a tender way that Harry's stomach tightened from the realisation of how much could be contained in a single word. Remus brushed wayward strands of hair away from Sirius' face before kissing him for just a moment, only long enough to share a breath between them. He kept looking down at Sirius as he took hold of his cock, and never once looked away until Sirius' head fell back against the pillow, a nearly soundless cry pushing its way out of his throat.

The restraints disappeared a moment later, and they kissed again, feverishly at first, as if they wanted to climb into each other's skin, then slowing until their lips barely touched. Remus smiled and settled against Sirius, sprawling comfortably over most of his body. Not that Sirius seemed to mind: he wound both his arms around Remus, a content expression smoothing out many of the lines on his face.

Seeing them like this, together and at ease with the world, filled Harry with bone-deep happiness. There'd been so many dark times in their lives, hell, in all of their lives, but the way that they were still so obviously smitten with one another was proof that some things could endure through war, separation, grief, and mistrust.

"Can I ask you something?"

Remus lazily opened his eyes, and Sirius turned his head towards Harry. "Hmm?"

"How did you—When was the first time you—At Hogwarts, how did you know that there was something between you?"

"Oh, that was—" Remus began.

"Sixth Year," Sirius interrupted.

"Fifth," Remus corrected.

"Ah no, Moony, Sixth."

"It was Fifth Year, Harry." Remus glanced at Sirius in a way that said he'd better stay quiet or there would be dire consequences. "There'd been little things all year...sitting next to each other too closely, hugs that lingered too long, that sort of thing. Then in March, nearly half of Hogwarts was sick with the flu, your father and Peter included. So it was just Padfoot and me for the full moon. And—"

"I was sick, too, for the record," Sirius interrupted once more. When Remus gave him that look again, he continued, "What? You're leaving out important parts!"

Remus propped himself up on one arm, looking rather amused. "All right, you were sick as a dog—" Sirius rolled his eyes at that statement, "and yet you ran with me that night. Which I was grateful for because full moons all by myself were miserable. In any case, the next morning, Sirius kissed me."

"Just like that?" Harry asked.

Remus laughed. "No, not quite. There was a lot of fussing over me first—"

"Well, I had to make sure you wouldn't hex me if I tried to kiss you, didn't I?"

"Did I ever move away from any of your advances during that year? And didn't I return any and all of the seemingly accidental touches?"

"Still," Sirius insisted.

"It was about time you kissed me, that's what I thought. And I was very glad it wasn't the last time you kissed me, either." Remus leaned down and touched his lips to Sirius'.

"So you were together after that?" Harry mused.

"Yes, you could say that," Remus replied. "Or would disagree, Padfoot?"

"Not...entirely."

"I'd hope so, considering you were in my bed most nights for the rest of the year." Remus looked at him pointedly.

Harry cleared his throat. "You—umm—you shagged in your room? With...with my dad and Pettigrew right there?"

Sirius grinned. "Never was quite as grateful for how good Moony was at Charms until then."

"Oh god." Harry groaned. "Did my dad know?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance. "Well," Remus began, "We never really found out. Sirius and I tried to keep our relationship to ourselves at school, but James did make a few comments later on, after we'd told him and Lily about us, that indicated he'd figured it out while we were still at Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe that you—oh my god." An even bigger realisation struck him. He rolled onto his back and rubbed a hand across his face. "Dean and Seamus. How could I have been so blind?"

"Pardon?" Sirius sounded confused, while Remus murmured, "Thomas and Finnigan, hmm. They were rather close in your Third Year already."

Harry dropped his hand. "Yeah. They were. And then sometime...I don't know when, sometime before all hell broke lose in Sixth Year they started seeing each other. Officially. Who knows how long that had been going on before then, and right in my dorm, too, and I _cannot_ believe I never thought of it before!"

"But now you know," Sirius quipped.

Harry groaned again.

"Coming back to the subject of me and Moony, however, you still need to hear why it was indeed Sixth Year, and not Fifth Year, that the incredible romance between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black started."

Remus snorted, and Sirius shushed him. He held Remus' gaze, a much more somber look on his face than just a moment ago. "At first, we didn't really think much about what we were doing, or what it meant, or where it might go. But then in Sixth Year..." Sirius shifted under Remus, a half-hearted effort of moving out from under him. Remus' hand settled on his hip, steadying him. Sirius relaxed back against the bed. With a glance at Harry, he said, "You must've heard about that prank I played on Snape."

Harry nodded.

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. "Right. Things weren't quite the same after that, but at one point, Moony and I—I think we both realised that we weren't done with each other yet."

"Understatement," Remus said quietly.

"What I mean is, we weren't that sure about each other before all the things that happened Sixth Year. But after that..." Sirius trailed off.

"After that?" Remus inquired softly.

"After that I knew that I was head over heels for Remus Lupin and that that wouldn't change for a long, long time."

Remus brought his hand up to Sirius' face, stroking his thumb along his temple. "And it hasn't."

"No."

"Not even in—"

"Not even then."

Remus nodded. "Same for me."

Harry remained quiet, wondering if they'd talked about this so openly before. They would have, wouldn't they? Or maybe not.

"I still insist on March 8, 1974, though," Remus teased.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Can't believe you remember the exact date."

"It was two days before my birthday. It's not so hard to remember."

Harry had the feeling Remus would have remembered even if it had been any other time of the year.  
"That's over thirty years," he whispered.

Remus and Sirius stilled for a moment before Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh. "Thank you for making me feel very old, it's much appreciated."

"Sorry," Harry said, his tone indicating that he didn't feel sorry at all. "I think it's incredible."

"That makes two of us," Remus observed.

 

~*~*~

A sharp knock startled Harry out of the pleasant haze he'd been in since returning from Christmas lunch at the Burrow.

"I'll go," he mumbled, flailing a bit as he tried to sit up, his limbs uncoordinated after a few hours of comfortable sprawl across Remus' lap.

Remus pushed Harry's glasses into his hand. Apparently, he'd also fallen asleep, as the book he'd been reading earlier rested on the arm of the sofa and Remus was rubbing his palm across blinking eyes.

Padfoot looked at them with perked ears (Sirius had insisted that his canine metabolism would make quick work of the enormous amount of food he'd consumed, and had transformed the moment they'd walked through the door).

"Draco, you reckon?" Remus asked.

Harry had almost forgot that it was the full moon tomorrow. "Yeah. Probably."

Remus nodded and picked up his book again.

Harry yawned and stretched on the way to the door.

"About bloody time," Draco muttered. He wore perhaps the longest scarf known to Wizarding kind—it wrapped around his neck at least four times and still dangled down to his waist.

"And Happy Christmas to you, too," Harry replied with extra cheer. " Come in. Why didn't you use the Floo?"

Draco pushed past him. "Didn't seem right on Christmas. I mean...Merlin knows which sight would have awaited me."

Harry rolled his eyes, but inwardly agreed that there was something to Draco's concern. After all, there had been that incident with Sirius and the back of the sofa just two days ago.

"Here." Draco held out a familiar bottle.

Harry accepted it, the glass cold against his skin. It felt so light, as if it couldn't possibly hold something of such importance. "Thanks."

"I'll take that." Remus appeared beside Harry and plucked the bottle out of his hands. "Give Severus my regards."

"I will," Draco replied.

Remus disappeared into his study.

Harry's chest tightened for a moment. Sometimes, the Wolfsbane made Remus feel nauseated, and Harry hoped that wouldn't be the case today. Not on Christmas, he thought. Of all days, not today.

He forced himself to look back at Draco. "Fancy a walk? I'm feeling positively stuffed."

Draco smiled. "Why not. Severus was convinced you'd force some sort of Christmas cheer on me so he isn't expecting me for a while yet."

Harry barely held back the comment about how Snape was the one who could use a Cheering Charm or two. "Let's go out the back door."

He led Draco through the kitchen, grabbed his jacket, scarf, and hat off the peg next to the door, and stepped outside. The frost bit at his cheeks and cold air filled his lungs, sweeping away the lethargy that had taken hold of him earlier.

Frozen leaves crunched under their shoes as they walked across the garden and on to the path beyond. The fields were dusted with small white crystals of ice, almost as if snow had fallen. On the far side, bare trees stretched into the dark purple-blue sky of early evening, the moon already on the rise behind the branches.

Harry stopped for a moment to take a closer look at it, finding it still a beautiful sight even though he knew what it meant for Remus.

"Happy Christmas to you, too," Draco said quietly.

"Thanks." Harry started walking again. "Did you have a good day, you and Severus?"

"Good enough, I suppose. Had to see my parents, and—well, you can probably imagine how that went. Formal lunch, polite conversation, and a complete denial that Severus and I live together."

"I'm sorry."

Draco waved his hand. "Don't be. It is what it is. Besides, if they were as appalled as they lead me to believe, they'd hardly insist that we visit for every bloody holiday."

"That's true."

They walked a little farther, shoulders bumping occasionally. A bend in the path allowed a clear view of the moon and Harry felt his eyes drawn towards it again. "Sirius gave me a book on Animagus transformation for Christmas."

"He did?"

"Yeah." Harry pressed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. "It's the book he used, actually. To learn the necessary spells. He and my dad and—they learned when they were at Hogwarts. Don't know if you knew."

"Severus has mentioned it once or twice."

Draco's voice was so even that it took Harry a moment to understand why Snape had probably told Draco about the Marauders. "Um, right. Remus and Sirius want me to try as well. So I can spend the full moon with them."

"That's wonderful." There was undeniable warmth in Draco's voice. "Everything still going well between the three of you, then?"

"Yes." Harry laughed. "I probably haven't had this much sex in such a short time in...well, ever."

Draco shoved him with his elbow, an approving smirk on his face.

"But it's more than that. I feel that—that I belong. With them. It's odd, almost, because it's just there, this...knowing. I probably don't make a lot of sense, do I?" Harry almost didn't care whether or not Draco understood. Voicing the thoughts that had coalesced in his mind over the past weeks made his feelings even more palpable, gave undeniable shape to them.

"You do," Draco affirmed. "I've had such moments myself."

Harry almost asked if they had been shared with Severus, but held back the question. He'd rather believe they were, and leave it at that.

They continued to walk in companionable silence until Harry felt Draco shudder next to him. "Shall we turn back?" The chill was seeping in through his jacket rather persistently as well.

"Yeah, good idea. Warming Charm's giving out and I'd rather not catch my death."

"You're using a Warming Charm on your cloak?"

Draco looked at him as if Harry had asked him if Quidditch was played with three balls. "Do you mean you aren't?"

"Um. No? Should I?"

"The fact that we can see our breaths would be one indication. How can you stand being out here—Never mind, let's just go back."

"'s not that cold," Harry protested under his breath.

"You are so strange, Potter."

They walked back at a much steadier pace, and before long, the yellow light spilling out from the kitchen windows welcomed them. Warmth prickled over Harry's skin as he stepped through the door. It was worth enduring a little cold air for this, he thought.

"Well, I'll be off," Draco announced.

"Oh, wait." Harry reached for one of the packages sitting on the kitchen table. "Christmas cake."

Draco eyed the gold wrapping and red bow. "Thank you. I hope you don't mind if..." He drew his wand. "There. Much better."

Gold had been replaced by green. Harry smiled. "Sirius said you'd do that."

"I hope that Black wasn't the one who baked this? I might fear for my health if he did."

"Nah, Remus did. Sirius helped, though. He chopped things. Nuts and such."

Draco still looked skeptical but withheld further commentary. Floo powder in hand, he said, "See you next month."

Harry nodded, and watched Draco call out the address. Green flames flared and died down.

As he walked into the living room, he noted with amusement that Remus and Sirius looked as if they hadn't moved an inch since he'd left, even though Remus had gone to the study and back. Remus was still reading on the sofa while Padfoot dozed in front of the fireplace.

"Had a good walk?" Remus asked.

"Mmmhmm." Harry looked around for _Unleashing Your Inner Animal—Animagus Transformation for Beginners_.

"Bookshelf," Remus pointed out. "The place books usually can be found."

"I don't remember putting it there, though." Book in hand, Harry settled on the carpet and leaned back against the sofa.

"I took the liberty of rescuing it off the floor before Padfoot got to it."

"Thanks," Harry replied sheepishly.

He opened the book and immediately found himself distracted by the notes in Sirius' handwriting. They outlined the progress they had made over the years, from the first painful attempts to the day they all finally managed to transform.

Remus' hand wound into Harry's hair, fingers gently combing through it.

Harry sighed with pleasure and let his head drop back against Remus' thigh. "I don't know if I can do this." He held up the book for emphasis.

"Of course you can. And will."

Sirius smoothly changed back into his human form—apparently he hadn't been as fast asleep as Harry had presumed—and came to sit next to Harry. "Remember, you're learning from the best. You'll be running around as, well, whatever it'll be, in no time."

This "whatever" was bothering Harry as well, but he'd just have to believe that he wasn't destined to turn into a hedgehog. "If you say so."

"I do. Now look here, this diagram's quite important..." Sirius took the book from Harry and flipped ahead a few pages.

Harry let Sirius' excited words wash over him, certain that they'd be repeated many times. He shared an amused look with Remus, then turned his attention back to the book.

 

end.


End file.
